Date: Mon, 8 Nov 2010 14:53:09 -0600
From: Charles Hughes <the.empty.room@hotmail.com>
Subject: THE ADVENTURES OF CHUCK AND CHARLIE - Chapter 1

This story is fiction. It describes the relationships of some young
friends, including their sexual experiences. If this offends you, or if you
are not at least 18 years of age, or if it is illegal where you reside to
read such material, you must leave.

Copyright 2010 Charles Hughes, all rights reserved.

I will try to answer all emails: the.empty.room@hotmail.com Please put the
name of the story in the subject line.  Other stories of mine can be found
under my name in the Prolific Authors list.


THE ADVENTURES OF CHUCK AND CHARLIE - Chapter 1


"Chuck! Charlie!"

That made us jump and pay attention, all right. Everybody said Miss Sanders
had the eyes of a hawk. Charlie and I thought she also had the voice of a
crow.

"You boys stop your whispering right now! An hour detention for both of
you!"

Well, she was always mad, especially at us. Miss Sanders never ever called
anybody by the first name. Patsy was Patricia; Mike was Michael. So when we
got to her 7th grade class she decided two boys named "Charles" would be
too much, so she decided to call me Charles and Charlie just Charlie.

I complained to Ma. I'd been "Chuck" for as long as I could remember and
didn't want to be anything else. She could call me "Chuck" and Charlie
"Charles." Only we'd compared notes after school that day, and he didn't
like that, either. Ma took my side, and Charlie and I were surprised one
day when both our mothers showed up after school and talked to Miss Sanders
after we left. The next day, she started calling us the right names.

Well, she was always mad at us because we sat together at the same desk. It
was a double desk -- only the older classes had single desks -- and we had
a double bench to sit on. We couldn't sit anywhere else, because we
followed each other in the alphabet. Collins-Connors. It wasn't our fault!
We had to sit in alphabetical order. It was her own damn rule. And you just
can't sit with your best friend in school all day without saying something
now and then!

I was 11, and Charlie was several months older than me. I'd known him since
I was seven. We moved to my grandpa's place in 1931. Daddy had lost his job
when the grocery store in town closed. He said it was a "long-term
consequence of the Crash." I didn't understand what that meant, and I don't
really remember much about the moving, anyway. I only saw Charlie now and
then, but when we both got a little older we started playing together more.

See, Charlie's place backed onto the woods, and our place backed onto the
same woods, only on the other side. We weren't really neighbors, but we
sort of were. We played in those woods more than we were supposed to. Got
to the place where, especially in the summertime, we'd rush through chores
as fast as we could get away with, and then we'd meet up in the woods.

I liked Charlie. I guess he was maybe my best friend. Maybe I was his,
too. I don't know for sure, though, because we never talked about it.

We talked about everything else, though. And that was part of the
problem. We talked too much in school. We even wrote notes to each other,
even though we sat right next to each other on that bench with nothing
between us. We did homework together sometimes, too. He was pretty smart.

I was just ordinary, I guess. Charlie was cute; that's what all the girls
said about him all the time. We just laughed about that. Who cared? But I
guess he was a little taller than me. And a little heavier. I was kind of
skinny. He wasn't really chubby, but I think he thought so some of the
times.

I liked Charlie. But we weren't just little kids anymore. Like we used to
be.

The summer before the 7th grade we'd been playing at a fort we made out in
the woods, and Charlie said he needed to pee. Of course, we'd peed lots of
times out there, but this time I kind of watched him. Well, I peed, too,
but I was turned away from him a little. I watched out of the corner of my
eye to see if maybe I could see his dick. I'd seen it once before, but that
was when we were eight or something. Mine was, well... sort of changing
some. I just wondered if maybe his was, too. Well, I couldn't see it. I
could see his pee but not his dick.

I remember that because that was the first time I'd kind of wondered about
Charlie's dick. And I wondered because sometimes, especially in bed at
night, mine sort of got a little bigger or something. And it felt kind of
good when I moved it around. I didn't think maybe I was supposed to do
that, but I didn't know. Was Charlie like that? Would he know? But I
couldn't ask him about a thing like that!

The thing is, ever since that, I'd get that wondering pop into my mind when
we were out in the woods. Every now and then I'd look at him -- especially
when he wasn't wearing a shirt under his overalls -- and I'd feel this
tingle in my dick. And sometimes when we peed my dick would get a little
stiff when I tried to tuck it away.

But I just couldn't help it at night. I slept in my underwear. I'd roll
over on my belly and press my legs together and move my middle all around
against the bed. That always got the tingle started. Sometimes I'd slip my
underwear down and move my dick around, and that was even better. And when
I took a bath it would get really stiff when I washed. And that felt good,
too. I didn't know if something was wrong with it. Or if other boys were
like that.

Somehow, I knew Charlie would know. But I was afraid to ask him.

It was the poking around that started getting me stiff in school. That was
awful! Charlie and I would poke each other in the ribs with our elbows when
Miss Hawk-Eyes-Crow-Voice wasn't looking. He started a little pinching now
and then -- not enough to hurt, just enough to make me jump a
little. Sometimes she'd catch us, but most of the time she didn't.

Only the thing was, almost every time when he poked or pinched or prodded
now, I'd get that tingle. Sometimes I'd even feel my dick get a little
stiff inside my underwear. My overalls were loose -- Ma always bought them
large so I'd grow into them -- so I didn't think anybody could see it. But
I could feel it, all right. Sometimes it was kind of uncomfortable.

"What's the matter?" Charlie asked me at recess one day when I'd told him I
didn't want him to poke me anymore. "You getting tender?" He giggled and
made to poke my ribs. When I turned so he could get there, he slapped my
butt instead.

"Naw, I just don't want to get caught is all," I said. But I poked him back
and got him good. I wondered if all this poking and dancing around would
make my dick stiff. It hadn't, but just thinking about it, and it started
to get stiff! What's that all about? So I wondered if Charlie's dick would
get stiff, and that just made me stiffer!

"Come on," Charlie said. "Before recess is over. Let's go pee."

The school outhouse was around back. It was a two-holer, but you weren't
supposed to go in there if somebody else was there. I guess the second hole
was for emergencies or something. There was a sign hanging on the side that
told you if there was anybody using it. But I knew that sometimes some of
the boys -- especially the older boys -- went in there together; I'd seen
them come out.

Rules didn't always bother us, but I was a little shy about peeing with
Charlie because of this problem I'd been having with my dick. I didn't want
him to know. But I did need to pee. Just his saying it made me pee! And,
damn, if just thinking about it didn't make my dick start to tingle!

But I did need to pee, so I followed him around back. The outhouse (we
called it the "shithouse" when nobody was around) was empty, so we went
in. It was always dark, so I couldn't see when Charlie started fishing
around in his overalls for his dick and then started peeing down into the
pit. So I took mine out. But by this time I had a real stiffie. And I
couldn't pee! I stood there and shook it just a little bit, and that didn't
help. I rubbed it a little bit, and that didn't help. Charlie was shoving
his back inside, and I still hadn't peed!

"Uh... guess I didn't really need to go," I muttered.

We had to run to get back inside when the bell rang. And then, halfway
through the afternoon I had to raise my hand to get permission to go to the
outhouse. Charlie gave me a funny look.

One morning during spelling Charlie started figeting around next to me. I
figured he was just being Charlie. I thought he was reaching into his
pocket for something with the hand next to me. Then I realized he'd put his
hand down the side of his overalls. He was reaching around
for... something. My eyes bugged out of my head when I realized where his
hand had to be. He was touching his dick! I watched out of the corner of my
eye as the crotch of his overalls moved a little over his hand. What was he
doing? He'd get us both detention! Was he touching his dick?

At lunch I got up the courage to ask him.

"Um... did you get itchy or something?" I asked. I was trying to be really
casual about it.

"Itchy?"

"When you... You scratched your... in school."

He grinned. "Just readjusting it a little, that's all." He saw my blank
look. "Sometimes it gets stiff, Chuck. Just on it's own." He shrugged.

So it happened to him, too!

"You get stiff, too, don't you?" he asked.

"Um... Do all boys?" I had successfully avoided answering his question
until I had a little more information.

"Sure." Charlie lowered his voice and looked around a little. "Happens when
we get older, like us. Our dicks like it." He grinned.

Like it. Is that why the tingle feels good? Is that why it happens
sometimes just for no reason at all? Is that why I like touching it at
night...? I suddenly had a million questions and was afraid to ask any of
them. He was talking quietly. Maybe this was something we weren't supposed
to talk about. Maybe this was something we weren't even supposed to know
about.

"You do it, don't you?" He'd asked the question straight out.

"Um... " I swallowed hard. "Yeah." But I grinned big. Then I felt myself
turn red. I'd admitted something naughty. I just knew, somehow, that it was
a naughty thing to do, play with your dick. And naughty to talk about
it. But I wasn't going to lie to my best friend.

I swallowed hard again. "Against... the bed at night... sometimes." There!
I'd said it!

Charlie grinned a knowing grin. He did, too! It was a boy thing, and it was
okay. It was a secret thing, but it was okay. That's what his grin meant. I
knew Charlie would be able to help me.

Only sitting next to him in school was a little more difficult now. I tried
to pay attention. Spelling. Arithmetic. Geography. History. But there was
always the question. Is Charlie stiff now? Does he get the tingle?

And every time he moved I had to keep my eyes focused on the blackboard. I
wanted to look at his overalls and see if you could tell when a boy had a
stiff one.

Bedtime was different, too. I'd lay in bed and press my middle into the
matress and wonder if Charlie was doing it at his house. When the house was
dark and quiet, I'd pull my underwear down and play with my dick. It felt
so good! And I was so relieved that it was supposed to feel good! And I'd
wonder if Charlie was doing it at his house. His hand on his dick, feeling
the same thing I was feeling...

Bathtime was different, too. I realized I had a genuine longing to see
Charlie naked. And that wasn't right. I knew that couldn't be right. Boys
might like playing with their stiff dicks. But boys weren't supposed to
want to see other boys naked.

But I did.

And every night I'd think about him. What did it look like, his dick? Was
it like mine at all? And what did it look like when it was stiff all the
way? Mine stood up some, like it was pointing at the sky. How big was it?
How big was an 11-year-old boy's dick supposed to be? Was I normal? Was
Charlie? What did he think about when he made his stiff?

It was naughty, wasn't it, thinking about Charlie that way?

The tingle would start, and I'd have to let go of my dick. I didn't want to
pee in the bed.

But I almost always went to sleep thinking about Charlie. Did he ever think
about me?